


Need

by Say_It_In_Enochian



Series: Between Scenes [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pining, Protective Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Sweet Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wounded Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_It_In_Enochian/pseuds/Say_It_In_Enochian
Summary: This is a "between the scenes" fic. to fill in some subtext.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Between Scenes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189517
Kudos: 33





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after "Stuck in the Middle." Castiel suffers after-effects from the Lance of Michael. Dean reckons with the near loss of Castiel.

The drive back to the bunker was passed in relative silence. Dean was on autopilot, lost somewhere inside himself, oblivious to the fact that the radio had turned to static.

Sam glanced back occasionally to check on Cas. The angel was sleeping. Angels weren’t supposed to sleep. An after-effect of the wound perhaps. Cas still looked weak and pale, even though the worst of it seemed to be over. Crowley had saved him. Wonders, it seemed, never ceased for the Winchesters. Sam wondered how long Crowley would wait to call in a favor.

Sam gave a quick nod to Dean as he glanced his way, letting him know Cas seemed okay. Tired but okay. Dean tried to keep his focus on the road for what seemed like an unending drive in rain and darkness. His eyes red-rimmed, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body tensed. The back seat was darkened but if Dean glanced in the rearview under passing lights he could barely make out Cas’s form in the shadows.

“You okay back there Sunshine?” he called.

“I’ll be okay Dean.” Cas answered softly after a moment “I think I just need to rest. A weapon from Heaven’s arsenal is bound to have an after-effect.”

Dean allowed himself to breathe a little and his shoulders to relax a bit. It made sense. Cas had been stabbed with a lance made to kill an archangel. Made by his brother, to produce the maximum amount of damage, the maximum amount of suffering before death. Jesus - what dicks angels were. And Dean thought his family was screwed up at times.

Just hours earlier Mary, Sam, Wally, Dean, and Cas had been ordering food and getting ready for what seemed like a routine demon hunt. Dean was more interested in helping Cas get lucky with the waitress who locked eyes with him than ruminating over the details of their plan. To be honest, Dean knew Cas would be too shy to follow through with a hasty hookup, but seeing the fluster in Cas’s face as they teased him, the nervous sniff of Mandy’s hair after they told him she’d smell like food…these were the things about Cas that made Dean’s chest almost burst with amusement. Not quite as amusing as the look of abject terror in Cas’s eyes the night Dean took him to a brothel and sent him off with “Chastity,” but enough to make Dean smile with the dorky awkwardness of it all. 

But now Wally was dead, Mary had taken off to god knows where and Cas, who had nearly died, was looking like he had gone 12 rounds with God himself. Dean winced with the guilt of it. He should have been more focused. He should have been careful. He should have known that there is no such thing in this job as routine. He almost lost his best friend tonight. He was still rigid and sick with the shock and fear of it all. If Cas had died tonight, what then...he forced the thought away and flicked the dial of the radio to some classic soft rock. He couldn’t let himself go there in his mind. 

Maybe they should have stopped at a motel, but ever since Dean and Sam pulled Cas off the floor of that barn Dean’s only thought was “home.” He needed to get Cas home. After hours of driving Dean finally turned off the highway and hit the back roads to the bunker. It was almost 3am by the time they pulled into the garage with Baby. 

Sam grabbed the duffle bags with their clothes. Dean opened the back passenger door and woke Cas who braced his weight on the door as he got out of the car. Dean ducked his shoulder under Cas’s arm and reached around his back to steady him. 

“Really, I’m okay Dean,” Cas assured him, but his complexion and total look of exhaustion belied his words.

“I know buddy, but you’re gonna have to humor me just this once,” Dean said as he pulled Cas in to lean on him leading him into the bunker and down the stairs. “Pretend I’m helping so I don’t feel like I let you down completely tonight.” Dean teased. 

Dean said it jokingly but Cas knew it for what it was. A confession. There was never a mistake, accident, or injury to family or friend that Dean Winchester wasn’t ready and willing to blame himself for. Cas bit his tongue for the moment. To argue with Dean’s self-hatred tonight was useless and he didn’t have enough energy for it. Better to let Dean feel like he was atoning for whatever imagined sin he had committed for now. He could set it straight in the morning.

Cas had his own room in the bunker. Obediently, he allowed Dean to lead him there now, settling on the bed. 

“Cas, you’re a mess,” Sam observed as Dean lowered him gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should get out of those clothes and we’ll wash them.”

Cas tried closing his eyes to summon the power to clean up his appearance, but all he got for his efforts was piercing pain to his skull that made him wince and grab his head.

“Hey! Hey! Cas!” Dean said reaching out and steadying Cas with a hand to his shoulder. 

Dean passed a worried look to Sam and back to Cas “Let’s get you out of those clothes and we’ll take care of them our way tonight. Don’t waste your grace on this.” 

Cas looked up at Dean, nodding agreement. 

“I’ll go grab something for you to sleep in,” Sam said, heading down the hall. 

Dean eased Cas out of his trench coat and jacket throwing them on a nearby chair as Cas worked on the buttons of his torn shirt revealing a bruised and still somewhat bloody gash in his side. The wound had stopped bleeding but still looked raw and angry, crusted with blood. Dean ran to the sink, wetting a cloth in warm water.

“Lay down,” he commanded, easing Cas back against some pillows and gently washing down the wound with the cloth.”

“I thought the spell broke when Crowley broke the lance?” Sam said from the doorway as he saw the wound. 

“The poison was spellwork,” Cas breathed, wincing as Dean touched a sensitive part of the wound. “Breaking the runes stopped the poison, but the lance still sliced into my vessel.” 

“Can you heal it?” Dean asked, voice full of concern. 

“Yes…..I’ve been working on it this whole time. Believe me, it was a lot worse in the barn. It’s just that the spell really weakened me…...It’s healing Dean,” he met Dean’s eyes to assure him. 

Dean looked at Cas like he wanted to argue but just then Sam tossed a pair of sweats and a tee on the bed for Cas. “I raided your drawer Dean since Cas is closer to your size.” Dean nodded. Dean applied a gauze bandage with some tape to cover Cas’s still angry wound. 

“Look, Sam and I will step out while you change, then we’re taking care of those” he pointed to the heap of bloody clothing on the chair “and you’re going to rest or sleep or do whatever it is that angels do to get better after being stabbed by a heavenly death spear.”

“It was technically a lance” Cas winced.

“Whatever - You want a beer? Whiskey? Water? Pie? Anything?”

Castiel gave a shake of his head and Dean and Sam stepped out to get drinks from the bunker’s kitchen.

“What the hell Sammy.” Dean said as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, downed it, and refilled his glass. “We almost lost Cas. I’m still not sure we haven’t.” 

Sam noticed Dean’s hands shaking. “Dean relax. Cas is safe. The poison is out and I think he really does seem better than he was earlier.”

Dean poured his 3rd shot and was about to sink it when Sam stayed his arm “Seriously Dean, you should get some rest too. You look like hell.” 

Dean knocked Sam’s hand away, downed his 3rd shot and put the bottle back in the cabinet. “Not until I’m sure Cas is okay.” 

“What are you gonna do Dean?” Sam laughed “Watch him sleep? You always complain about how creepy that is.”

“Yeah well, then he can consider it payback for all the times he’s creeped me out.” Sam looked like he was about to say more but Dean cut him off “I gotta shower Sammy and you’re right - we both need rest. “I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t worry about Cas - I’ll check in on him,” and with that, he left. 

Dean let the hot water melt the grime and sweat from his body. He normally would relish a long shower after a hunt but tonight he was so physically and emotionally drained that he found himself leaning against the tiled walls for support. For a moment the warmth and exhaustion caused his mind to drift into a half-dream...to another night. He saw Cas lying on the floor, injured and barely able to raise his head as Ishim looked menacingly at Dean. “I'm gonna help you,” he told Cas looking at Dean, “I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness - same way I cured my own. By cutting it out.”

Dean shook himself out of the vision and back to the moment. “Human weakness” Ishim’s voice echoed. That’s what Dean was. How many times had Cas risked his life for Dean? How many times had Sam and Dean almost gotten him killed? Maybe Cas would have been better off if Ishim had just done it.

Dean dried off and threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt then went to check on Cas.

Castiel lay on top of the bed in a pair of Dean’s navy sweats and a faded "Bad Company" tee. Dean thought he’d never seen him look so “human”...well except for maybe when Cas had actually been human. He didn’t move as Dean entered. 

“Cas...you awake?” Dean whispered, not wanting to disturb him if he was resting. When Cas didn’t respond Dean watched carefully until the rise and fall of Cas's chest assured him that the angel was just sleeping. 

He grabbed the pile of bloody clothes from the chair including the pants and shirt that Cas had changed from and brought them to laundry, throwing them in for a wash.

Returning to Cas’s room he dimmed the lights, closing the door quietly behind him. Dean grabbed the chair from its place along the wall and set it next to the bed, sinking down into it. From here he could hear Cas breathe deeply, as one in sleep. 

Now, in the dark, alone, next to Cas, Dean allowed his emotions to break over the dam. Just a brief moment of release as he choked back a sob and let the tears flow covering his face with his hands. 

Dean startled as he felt a hand grab his arm. 

“Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Oh....sorry I woke you Cas!” Dean said in a choked whisper, looking away and wiping his eyes so Cas wouldn’t see. 

“It’s freezing in here,” Cas said. 

If anything, Dean thought, it was unusually warm in the bunker tonight. 

Dean shot his hand to Cas’s forehead. No sign of a fever. Cas was cold and sweaty, but Cas had once bragged he didn’t sweat under any circumstances. Could angels go into shock? That would explain Cas’s exhaustion, the ashen complexion, and now this shivering that had started. 

“Hey buddy, let’s get you under those blankets to warm you up. You’re freezing.” 

Cas shivered as he allowed Dean to shift him this way and that until Dean could pull the covers over him. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and briskly rubbed up and down Cas’s arms and back to warm him. After a few minutes, the shuddering breaths stopped and Cas settled once again into a regular breathing pattern. Dean felt Cas’s forehead again. It was less clammy. His skin returning some warmth and Dean ran his fingers back gently to smooth away Cas’s sweat-soaked hair.

The need for sleep was taking Dean, fighting with his need to be near Cas. 

“You need to sleep Dean,” Cas said, reading his thoughts.

“Well, sleep can wait. I’m not leaving you until I know for sure you’re okay. And so far I’m not entirely convinced” Dean insisted stubbornly. 

With a sigh, Cas shifted over to the left side of the full bed. 

“If you insist on being an ass, then at least you can lay down before you fall down, or neither of us will get any rest. I made room.” 

Dean’s face flushed at the idea of laying down here with Cas and was glad for the darkness to hide his reaction. He didn’t want to delve into his thoughts at the moment. He only knew he wanted to feel Cas next to him, wanted to hold him close as he should have in that barn tonight as Cas lay dying. His whole being needed to make it up to Cas for not holding him tight and letting him know he wasn't alone as the poison and pain spread through him, taking him over. But Dean had froze. He just stood there not knowing what to do, too busy trying to think of a way to save Cas.

That was what he told himself at least when he repeated the horrible scene in his mind. He pushed away the thought that it was Mary’s and Sam’s presence that held him in place, staring helplessly as Cas lay dying, unable to close the distance for fear of their eyes on them both. Jesus, he was such a fuck up. He pushed the thought away again.

“Only if you don’t go bragging to anyone about getting me in your bed.” He quipped jokingly.

Dean settled himself above the covers, far enough from Cas to convince himself it was nothing more than concern for a friend. Close enough for his hand to resume gently rubbing up and down Cas’s side, even though it was no longer needed for warmth. After a few moments, Cas reached out and caught Dean’s arm, just holding it, settling him there. Dean pulled his hand back along Cas’s until their hand’s grasped. Gently he pulled Cas’s hand to his face, holding his cheek to the back of Cas’s hand and brushing it with his lips, pressing a soft kiss. It wasn’t romantic, just pure need. Still, it felt wrong, it felt forbidden, not because Cas wouldn’t want it, but because Dean _did_. 

Cas could feel a tear trace down Dean’s cheek as he laid it against his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered against Cas’s skin, for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure. Sorry for fucking up tonight? Sorry for being here in Cas’s bed when clearly Cas just needed to rest? Sorry for being so fucking needy? For clearly taking advantage of his friend in a moment of weakness? Dean had a catalog of sorry.

Cas turned his palm to cup Dean’s cheek, brushing his lips gently with his thumb. Ignoring Dean’s unnecessary apology.

“Thank you Dean, for staying here with me.”

Cas twined his fingers into Dean’s and brought them down to rest on the bed between them. It was enough for Dean. Just enough to let Dean know Cas wanted him there too. Dean could work with that reasoning. He was there because that’s what Cas needed. He could process that need instead of his own.

In time Dean’s breath settled and they both finally let sleep take them.   
  
A few hours later Dean woke in Cas’s arms. The angel lay still...sleeping. Dean had a hazy memory of climbing under the covers as he woke from a nightmare and a chill took him during the night. A hazy memory of sliding up close to Cas to share his warmth. Of pressing a gentle kiss to Cas’s forehead and of the angel reaching his arms around to pull him in closer. It was the safest Dean had felt in perhaps forever, and Dean gave in to oblivion and slept.

Waking in this way, coming to his awareness, he suddenly felt anything but safe. He felt a familiar flush on his neck and cheeks. He was in bed, tangled in the arms of his best friend, and Dean had been the one responsible.

What the hell would he say to Cas about last night’s total lack of self-restraint? To Sam if he happened to come in for that matter? Carefully, reluctantly, he extracted himself from Cas’s limbs and slowly got out of bed so as not to wake him. The phone on the nightstand said 8:47 AM but it was still very dark, a benefit of life in a windowless bunker. Dean quietly opened the door and padded down the hall to his own room, jumping under the covers. He tried for another half hour to get back to sleep before giving up and going to the kitchen to make coffee.

For his part, Cas remained in bed, just long enough for Dean to believe that he slept through his exit. In a short while, when he joined Sam and Dean in the kitchen, Cas wouldn’t let Dean know that he was already awake when in the throes of a nightmare Dean had cried out his name in the night. Cas would pretend, for Dean’s sake that Cas hadn’t desperately clung to him as Dean drew him close in the dark.

Castiel had his own issues with guilt, and right now he felt selfish. Dean had been sick with worry for him. He could have awoken Dean hours ago to let him know he was okay again, but the rise and fall of Dean's breath as he slept was a cadence that lulled him...the feel of Dean in his arms like opium. 

Cas’s long life had taught him to understand patience. He didn’t know if Dean would ever feel what Cas felt for him, but could be patient for Dean. If all else failed, Cas’s life had taught him to understand sacrifice. He would be whatever Dean needed. He would take whatever Dean could give and sacrifice the rest. For Dean. Always for Dean.

Castiel smelt the scent of coffee brewing. He didn’t need the beverage, but he enjoyed the morning ritual. Cas rose and went to the kitchen.

“Cas!” Sam called as Dean poured his second cup. 

“Hello Sam, Dean.” Cas smiled in greeting.

Dean’s breath hitched as he turned and saw Cas, still in Dean’s clothes, smiling at them both as he joined them. Cas’s hair was in the most sexy disarray. Dean’s threadbare shirt stretched over the muscles of Cas's chest and arms, and for a brief moment the memory of being entangled in those arms, flush against that chest, overwhelmed Dean’s senses and he spilled the coffee. 

“Shit!” Dean said grabbing paper towels to mop up the mess. As he concentrated on the floor he wondered whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that Cas was usually bundled in a suit and trench coat. Cas’s regular clothes did nothing for his build, but these clothes did nothing for Dean’s nerves. 

Cas looked over and caught Dean’s eye, and Dean was certain he didn’t imagine the brief smirk on Cas’s lips. Bad Company indeed, Dean thought. 

“You good now Cas?” Dean called gruffly as he went to toss paper towels in the trash.

“I’m good,” Cas said refilling Dean’s coffee and pouring himself some, and pulling up a chair. “The wound is totally healed and I feel my strength returning. Thank you both for everything.” 

Sam was making eggs and bacon. “Breakfast Cas?”

“No thank you. Just Coffee….So what’s on the roster for today?” he asked.

“Junk-food run and movie marathon,” Dean said decidedly.

“No cases?” Cas asked.

“We just killed a demon, you nearly got ganked, Mary’s in the wind who knows where. I think we earned a day off.” 

“I agree.” Sam said. 

It wasn’t lost on Sam that Dean had called their mother “Mary.” It was a sure sign that his guard was up over her again. Cas noticed too but they all silently agreed to let the comment go.

“Give me back what’s mine...or I take it off your lifeless bodies.” Ramiel had said, counting the seconds down.

Something about yesterday didn’t add up and Dean couldn’t help but feel in his gut that their mother was hiding something from them. If that something had almost gotten Cas killed…...Well, he could….would, deal with that on another day. For now, it was enough to just be home, safe with Sam and Cas.

And if Dean had trouble meeting Cas’s eye this morning, that feeling would fade by the end of the day as the three of them watched old movies and Dean laughed as Cas tried to figure out the cosmic nuances of Young Frankenstein and Abbot and Costello. And if Dean started the day on the opposite side of the room from Cas, he would in time close the distance as Cas was...well Cas, and it only took a short while in his presence to feel at home again. And if Dean sat a little bit closer to Cas than he would anyone else, he would pretend not to notice. Sammy would pretend not to notice. Cas would pretend not to notice, but his heart would be filled with the warmth of Dean’s closeness just the same. 

When Sam got up to get more beer from the kitchen Dean reached out and took Cas’s hand squeezing, looking straight ahead, not daring to look into the eyes he knew were on him now. “We can’t lose you Cas.” Dean whispered. “ _I_ can’t lose you... Promise me.”

They both knew it was a promise neither could guarantee.

“I promise Dean.” Cas whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Just as quickly as it happened, Dean released Cas’s hand as Sammy came back with fresh beer for everyone. 

Cas smiled to himself. Cas could be patient, for Dean. Always for Dean. 


End file.
